


New Year, Same Me

by pied_pollo



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Drunk Dialing, Gen, How Do I Tag, Humor, Kidnapped Malcolm Bright, Short, welllllll not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pied_pollo/pseuds/pied_pollo
Summary: The case isn’t closed; Gil gets a drunk phone call; and Dani almost runs over their profiler. Hilarity ensures.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	New Year, Same Me

Malcolm didn’t expect their killer to have had a partner until he found himself staring dazedly down the barrel of a gun.

In his defense, the case was already closed, paperwork-wise. Their sadist, Greg Boyle, had jumped off the roof once he knew he was cornered, and for once, Malcolm had pushed down his cynicism and went out for a drink with Gil at one of the many pubs lining the streets of New York City.

Unfortunately for him, the reason something felt like it didn’t fit was because, well, something didn’t fit—but that was for later. Now, in their blissful ignorance, Gil knocked his glass back in a fluid motion and Malcolm dropped his head to the table as he announced, “That was a hell of a murder.”

“That was a hell of a _year,”_ Gil sighed, reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze. “I mean, come on, kid. Think of all the crazy we’ve been through these past twelve months.”

 _“So_ much crazy,” Malcolm slurred into the table.

Gil dragged him back to an upright positioning by tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Are we calling it a night, then? I’ll call us a cab.”

“Not yet,” Malcolm replied, downing the rest of his glass before getting to his feet, swaying as he did so. “I’ma use the...somethin’.”

“Sure.”

Malcolm stumbled through the bar and made his way to the bathroom, pausing as he struggled to read the sign. There were two doors, a white one and a metal one; before he could figure out what the right place was, Malcolm felt someone burst through the metal door and grab him by the arm, tugging him outside.

Therein brings us to the gun-in-the-face situation.

“Who’re you?” Malcolm asked, slightly annoyed.

His offender held him by the collar and kept the weapon aimed point-blank at his forehead. “Where is my brother?” he demanded.

“Broth...oh, no,” Malcolm muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand. “Boyle, right? Um...he’s...he died.” Distantly, he thought that he shouldn’t have spoken like this out loud, but also distantly, his drunken mind didn’t give an angelic LeMans for whatever was going on. Really, he just wanted to go home.

Boyle’s brother had other plans. “Get in the trunk,” he ordered, dragging Malcolm a few feet away to a van that laid rumbling against the alley wall. “Do you know what I’m going to do with you?”

“Dunno,” Malcolm mumbled, climbing into the car without a second thought.

The trunk slammed shut without incident, and moments later, the car started to drive away. Malcolm rested his head on his arm with a sigh, but before he could fall asleep, he felt something pinch in his breast pocket—that _something_ being a ringing phone.

Oh. Maybe he could use that.

* * *

Gil had only just started to turn back to his whiskey before he saw Malcolm being roughly jerked from the hallway and into the alley.

“Shit,” he blurted out, getting to his feet and staggering past the other bar attendees before pushing through the metal door outside, dialing Dani as he walked. In the alley, neither Malcolm nor his attacker were anywhere to be seen.

_“Powell.”_

“I need an APB out for Bright,” Gil groaned. “We’re at Keegan’s pub, and someone just grabbed him. They must have a car, but they’re not—” His phone buzzed. “—Hold on, it’s—” He checked the Caller ID and cursed.

_“What?”_ Dani prompted.

“Bright’s calling me. Lemme patch him in.”

A few moments later, Malcolm slurred, _“What’s up?”_

“Bright, where are you?” Gil demanded. “Who grabbed you?”

_“Oh?”_ Malcolm thought for a moment. _“Oh…um, I’m in Boyle’s car. Boyle’s brother’s car.”_

His nonchalance made Gil want to scream. “Could you be more specific?”

_“Uh...truck. Red Mazda?”_ But then Malcolm giggled, of all things. _“He’s...oh, God, Gil, he’s so pissed.”_

 _“I would be, too,”_ Gil heard Dani mutter, before she raised her voice and asked, _“Hey, Bright, is there a release lever in the trunk? Glow-in-the-dark, something you can pull?”_

 _“Dani?”_ Bright mumbled, the smile evident in his voice. _“I didn’ know you were there.”_

“The lever, Bright,” Gil snapped.

Over the line, Malcolm gave a small hum, and Dani was speaking to someone near her. Gil waited for one of them to speak, before finally, the latter announced, _“We got eyes on him, now, Gil. He didn’t get far; we’re on 12th.”_

Gil heaved a sigh of relief. “Perfect. Let’s cuff him and bring him in for questioning.”

_“Think he was,”_ Malcolm mused, before Gil heard a small click. _“Found the lever.”_

Gil was about to congratulate him, but it was then that Dani shouted, _“Wait!”_

A muffled screech of tires. A heavy thud.

The line went dead on both ends.

* * *

“Wait!” Dani shouted into the phone, just as the trunk swung open.

Through the windshield wipers, she could make out the red Mazda that plowed through the road just a few feet away. With the grace of a wet cat, Malcolm spilled unceremoniously out of the car in a pile of limbs and jacket sleeves, landing hard on the street and right in front of JT’s moving squad car.

He hit the breaks, but whether that was on time, Dani didn’t know, because when she shoved the doors open, Malcolm had gone completely still.

“Bright!”

Gil was rushing towards them, now, as JT arrested Boyle’s brother and ushered him into the back of his car. Dani turned her focus back to Malcolm and pulled him into her lap, hands running over his body to search for injuries.

Nonexistent injuries.

With a groan, Malcolm blinked open his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position, swaying slightly as he did so. Gil dropped to his knees beside Dani and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him into a tight hug.

“We are _never_ drinking there again,” he promised.

Malcolm frowned. “I liked that place.”

Meanwhile, Dani spluttered. The slurred words over the phone; the disorganization in Malcolm’s thoughts and posture...suddenly, it made sense. “Is he _drunk?”_

“Completely smashed,” Gil affirmed, hauling Malcolm to his feet. “And definitely the cause of all my gray hairs.”

“M’I gonna get a DUI?” Malcolm mumbled, sagging into his shoulder.

Gil tightened his grip, trying hard to keep the amusement off his face as he said, “We are going to have a serious conversation when you’re sober.”

“If he remembers it,” JT snorted.

Gil groaned and shook his head, steadying Malcolm before very promptly shoving him back to his own car.

* * *

“I feel pleasantly disgusting,” Malcolm moaned the next morning, digging the heel of his palm into his eye. The precinct lights were doing a number on his hangover; Gil couldn’t help but wince in sympathy as he stumbled trying to accept Dani’s coffee. “What happened last night?”

“You had a little too much,” she said lightly.

Gil frowned. “What do you remember?”

“Um…” Malcolm frowned, thinking hard. “You, and the bar...I was in an alley. Then, JT was there. I called Dani? And, um...not much after that.”

JT smirked. “Told ya.”

“Why?” Malcolm looked between the three of his colleagues, confused. “What happened?”

“You…” Gil hesitated, then decided on, “...got into a bit of a brawl.”

“I did? Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dani snickered, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “It was just a fight. No harm done.”

Malcolm took a sip of coffee and plopped down on the couch, stretching out his legs. It didn’t take a profiler to see he wasn’t buying the explanation, but the discomfort of the hangover clearly won his attention, and he relaxed into the cushions with a sigh.

“Back to work, then?” JT proposed, tossing a file onto the table.

Gil nodded. “Back to work. And Bright,” he couldn’t help but add, “it’s the new year.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “And…?”

“Just…try not to get in any sort of trouble this year, okay?”

Malcolm seemed okay with that challenge. “Consider it my New Year’s Resolution.”

With that, he pushed himself off the couch and walked into the bullpen, and Gil followed him, pretending not to hear Dani and JT’s whispered conversation—

“One month, twenty bucks?”

“Two weeks. You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my pre-season 2 offering to the fandom and quite possibly my favorite.


End file.
